The Inane Realm of Erratic Testosterone Insomniacs
by Blake Schneider
Summary: The 7th and final year at Hogwarts has its benefits, along with its twisted new discoveries that lead secret unplanned trips to Hogsmeade, midnight karaoke sessions, and a deal ludicrous, but bizarrely sexy burlesque outfits. R for slash & language.


Disclaimer: All characters & settings belong to the brilliant J.K. Rowling. I'm simply borrowing them for my own simple pleasures as well as yours.  
  
A/N: You have been warned, this is slash. I will not tolerate any unnecessary flames from those of you who are dense enough to try it, when I have specifically told you not to read this is not your cup of joe!  
  
Summary: The 7th and final year at Hogwarts has its benefits, along with its twisted new discoveries that lead secret unplanned trips to Hogsmeade, midnight karaoke sessions, and a deal ludicrous, but bizarrely sexy burlesque outfits. R for slash & language.  
  
The Inane Realm of Erratic Testosterone Insomniacs  
  
Expressway to Hell  
  
The Hogwarts Express had just unloaded its many student occupants. For Harry Potter and many others, it was the beginning of their 7th, and final year. He hadn't thought much about any goals or achievements he wanted to make, to cement his departing reputation. He could, perhaps, give a dramatic leave in the towards the end of the year before N.E.W.T.'s such as Fred & George had done, but decided against it, since he wished to continue to be able to show his face in public without being dubbed the infamous "Boy-Who-Pussied-Out". No, that simply wouldn't do. For he had a score to settle, with his archrival, the one and only bouncing ferret named Draco Malfoy.  
  
The train ride had fared rather normally; meaning that it had been one shrouded in a pit of utter chaos, yet again. Amongst the events that ensued were the occasional arguments between Ron and Hermione that quickly turned into frenzied snogging sessions, from which rude noises Harry tried heatedly to ignore, in the cabin he had taken shelter in across the couple's. And, he wouldn't be in such a haste to forget the standard tradition of meeting Malfoy at some point on the journey.  
  
Harry was sprawled on his stomach, quite relaxed on the comfortable bench, with his leg stretched out, propped up on his elbows, hovering over a Quidditch book, and an added accessory of a large pillow on top of his head to muffle the disturbing sounds of his two best friends.  
  
He was brought abruptly out of his attempt to ignore the world outside when his compartment door banged open, startling his senses back into focus.  
  
"Potter! I see you've taken a tip from the Weasel, with his horrendous fashion sense, in wearing that thing over your head," Draco snarled, standing in the doorway, looking as majestic as any young Prince would. Though this time he was without the enormous flank of his royal guard of Crabbe and Goyle.  
  
"Ha. Ha, Malfoy. It's to muffle the noises my friends are making across the hall, in case you haven't noticed them. And I don't see you with any remarkable sense of fashion, either," Harry retorted, sitting up, slamming his book shut.  
  
"No surprise there, the sounds of juvenile foreplay displayed by the classless Weasel and filthy mudblood are enough to make anyone want to hurl," Malfoy remarked, scathingly, smirking with that nasty arrogant elegance. As an afterthought he added, "What would you know about fash-"?  
  
"Those. Sounds. Are like music to my ears compared to the guttural noises I hear every time you speak, you fucking malicious prat," Harry growled through gritted teeth, flushing red with fury, clutching the pillow tightly with his whitened knuckles.  
  
"Oooh, touchy now, are we, Potter? Always the noble Gryffindor, standing up for his pathetic friends," Draco replied coolly, as poised as ever.  
  
"Pathetic? A better adjective for you, seeing as how those dim-witted tubs of lard have abandoned you when you're going to need it most!" Harry seethed, utterly fed up with this nonsense; proving so by hurling the pillow at Malfoy's vain head.  
  
With his Seeker reflexes, Malfoy managed to jump to the side, avoiding a frontal smack in the face only by a slight graze on the side of his that slightly tousled his perfectly styled hair. The pillow instead hit the door of the compartment with Ron & Hermione, who paused their activities on its impact, but resumed immediately after.  
  
Draco was furious at Potter's lame attempt to try and ruffle him. Draco Malfoy. He possessed the endless sophistication and vindictiveness of his family line. With his ears and cheeks glowing a sharp shade of pink, he lunged at the fuming Gryffindor, grabbing him by the worn collar of his shirt.  
  
"YOU. POTTER. DO. NOT. WANT. TO. EVER. MESS. WITH. A. MALFOY'S. HAIR-Unless you wish to see the deep, fiery pits of hell long before You-Know-Who does!!!" Draco hollered through clenched teeth, tightening his grip.  
  
"YOU. INSUFFERABLE. PIECE. OF. POMPOUS. SHIT!!! YOU'RE NOT WORTH EVEN A TINY FRACTION TO THE MASTER WHOM YOU SERVE! YOU AND YOUR WHOLE BLOODY DEATH EATER DARK-LORD-ASS-KISSING FAMILY!!!" Harry managed to gasp in a loud, hoarse whisper with the hand still on his throat. He struggled heavily, and being equal in strength to Malfoy due to long years of Quidditch training, he broke free, panting heavily, with the fire rivaling of, yes, hell and the poison of a thousand cobras.  
  
That statement in reference to his family was purely enough for Draco. He had had it. Dark Lord or no, he was lividly intent on finishing off the famous Harry Potter then and there.  
  
"YOU FUCKING WORTHLESS SPAWN OF YOUR DAFT PARENTS!!! INSULT THE MALFOY FAMILY?!?! PREPARE TO MEET YOUR TIMELY, BRUTAL DEATH, POTTER!!!" Draco cried, with force that would make even the eccentric coot Dumbledore wince.  
  
With the liquid reflexes, both had their wands drawn in an instant, faces lit with the blood pumping fiercely through their veins, feet planted so firmly as nothing could knock them down, eyes locked, sharing the utmost pure hatred that sizzled between them, the tension of it as thick as molten lava. Burning, pouring out in massive amounts from deep within the heart of the erupted volcano. There was only a few seconds' time in which they held this connection, this back and forth volley of raging emotion and animal instinct.  
  
The almost impenetrable silence was split apart as two raised voices shouted hexes they were both quite knowledgeable of, being top-mark students in their Defense Against the Dark Arts classes.  
  
Expelled. That is how they found themselves, caught for fighting on formally peaceful train, setting not only, terrible examples for the younger students, but scaring the bloody wits out of the soon to be first years, and inflicting harm upon each other.  
  
That surely would have been the undeniable result, had it not been for the case of the impossibly swift actions of the supervising Professor McGonagall, who'd heard the furious argument from halfway across the train, and rushed to stop the inevitable outcome of yet another spectacle of lethal clash between Potter & Malfoy.  
  
She struck them both with the Immobulus charm. Causing both to freeze in mid-wand movement and mid-hex vocalization.  
  
"POTTER!! MALFOY!! THIS IS AN ABSOLUTE DISGRACE FROM BOTH OF YOU! I AM OUTRAGEOUSLY DISAPPOINTED IN THIS BEHAVIOR COMING FROM TOP STUDENTS, AND A PREFECT, NO LESS!! THIS IS BEYOND MATTER OF SETTLING PETTY FEUDS, GENTLEMEN! YOU TWO ARE TO REPORT TO DUMBLEDORE'S OFFICE TO RESOLVE MATTERS AND RECEIVE PUNISHMENT FOR YOUR ACTIONS-RIGHT AFTER THE SORTING CEREMONY!" McGonagall shrieked, wrath and distress empowering her. She took a couple of deep breaths, and added in an attempted calmer tone, "When I release you both, you are both to hand over your wands to me immediately. I simply cannot risk more battles ensuing in your current hostile states. You will get them back soon-IF your behavior keeps up. Mr. Malfoy, kindly return to your compartment after this, and I want the both of you to get dressed in your robes, we will be arriving at Hogwarts shortly."  
  
With that said, she cleverly stepped in between them, so as to avoid them attempting to physically scuffle with each other, raised her wand and said in a crisp, still slightly fuming voice: Finite Incantatem. Both boys were shocked by the sudden release and mobile ability, still flaming with scorching anger and heat, they locked eyes across their Professor's shoulder, barely noticing her as she quickly whisked away their outstretched wands, and hastily escorted Mr. Malfoy out of Potter's cabin. He threw an unspeakably tumultuous glare over his retreating shoulder, which was met by the menacing light of narrowed, flashing green.  
  
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Kindly review and tell me your opinion on that chapter, of which I spent quite some time and energy on. I know this chapter was indeed, very dark, a factor that will remain as an undertone even in upcoming more lighthearted and humorous chapters. Thank you for your time, and have a nice day. 


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